


Don't Need Any Sleep

by SuperBlondie



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anxiety, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Healthy Relationships, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Therapy, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, we love getting help and self-care!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:34:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25040212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperBlondie/pseuds/SuperBlondie
Summary: Soulmate bonds are sacred, two or more people sharing energy, perfect for each other in every way. It is the height of romance, the end-all-be-all for most people. When Kris meets his soulmate after months of bone-deep exhaustion and sleeping his days away, his first thought is: So you’re who I’ve been looking for. His second thought is: It's bedtime you little jerk!
Relationships: Huang Zi Tao | Z.Tao/Lu Han, Kim Jongin | Kai/Oh Sehun, Kim Junmyeon | Suho/Kim Minseok | Xiumin, Park Chanyeol/Wu Yi Fan | Kris
Comments: 33
Kudos: 158
Collections: November Rain Fest Round 2





	Don't Need Any Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> November Rain Prompt: NR2082
> 
> I hope you enjoy this! It was fun to write. I really missed just getting to write fluff and sweet stuff and healthy relationships. There is some stuff with Chanyeol's mental health, nothing too dark, but I just want to make sure that you're aware before you read!
> 
> Thank you, mods, for running this fest! It was really fun! A big thank you to Poorvs for dragging me into this fest (I'll be paying you back with some Xiuhanfan posthaste :3) And, as always, a big big big thank you to my beta, [Aarushi,](https://twitter.com/Aarushi_c18)!

“Hey. Hey, dude, wake up.” 

“What,” Kris opens his eyes with a groan, squinting at the bright light shining through the bus windows. He’s being shaken awake by some guy from his economics class. He doesn’t know his name, only recognizes him because they always take the same bus to campus on Mondays and Wednesdays.

“Our stop is coming. You passed the hell out as soon as you sat down and I didn’t want you to miss class.”

Kris sits up in his seat and stretches his arms and legs. “Shit. Thanks, man, I appreciate it.”

“No problem. I’d want someone to do the same for me.” His classmate shrugs and walks back to his own seat a few rows back. He rubs at his face. There’s a smear of drool down the side of his face. He cringes and wipes it away before his classmate can notice, he hopes the other man doesn’t notice, at least.

He fell asleep— _ again. _ It feels like all he does anymore is sleep. He can’t stay awake through class without coffee. He keeps sleeping through his bus stop and movie nights with friends. His grades are starting to slip. He’s got enough stars at Starbucks that the baristas are actually starting to worry about him; he’s worried too, all this caffeine really isn’t good for him. But what else can he do?

Kris sleeps and sleeps and he’s still  _ so tired _ , exhaustion sitting at the back of his mind, hovering over him like a dark cloud. 

He’s dealt with sleep deprivation before. All college students have to at some point simply based on how college works, but this is something entirely different. This isn’t just his own sleepless nights coming back to haunt him. And he doesn’t have many sleepless nights anymore; it took him six semesters, but he’s finally on top of all his homework and tests and can go to sleep before midnight without a single worry.

He’s usually in bed by ten though, a grandpa in a college senior’s body, because his fucking soulmate is working themselves to the bone and he’s shouldering the exhaustion for the both of them.

It is supposed to be an evolutionary advantage, scientists say about the phenomenon, how there’s someone out there that is, for lack of a better word, your soulmate. Biology picks you a perfect match based on genetics and physiology and brain chemistry, and then some strange, inexplicable magic connects you to them through shared exhaustion. 

There’s evidence that it allowed humans to take more territory, hunt for longer. If one soulmate went off to hunt for days and days, the other could spend the time alone sleeping to give the hunter more energy to bring home food. 

There’s even more evidence that it was meant to be a failsafe. Nature realized humans are too predisposed to working themselves to death and gave them an other half that can feel when things are going too far and can maybe pull the overachiever to bed before their body gives out on them.

Kris has seen the soulmate bond work both ways. Jongdae sleeps maybe fifteen hours a day when Yixing is working on an album so that Yixing can finish his work faster and go back to giving Jongdae the attention he demands. Zitao hauls Luhan off to sleep if he stays up past one in the morning playing video games.

Kris’ soulmate bond is like Jongdae and Yixing’s—for now. For now, he can’t do much but fall asleep at any given opportunity because his soulmate is working themselves so hard and sleeping so little.

But the second he finds his soulmate, he’s dragging their ass to bed and keeping them there until he doesn’t need six cups of coffee to make it through the day. 

He likes to imagine waking up next to them and not feeling like he’s running on empty even after a full night’s sleep. He likes to imagine just waking up next to his soulmate, having someone to stumble around groggily in the mornings and cook dinner in the evenings with.

Kris thinks they’re older, probably working two jobs or maybe a student in law or med school. They have to be with the way they never sleep. 

The bus jerks to a stop, jolting Kris out of his thoughts. He scrambles to grab his backpack and hop off the bus before the driver takes off again. The dude from his class is waiting for him, expression schooled into one of the best resting bitch faces he’s ever seen. And that’s saying something considering Kris’ own resting bitch face is one of legend. 

“Soulmate troubles,” his classmate asks, “I see you pass out, like, all the time.”

Kris nods. “Haven’t met them yet, but it’s like they just don’t fucking sleep at all. I swear to God I’d sleep twenty-three hours a day if it weren’t for class, coffee, and sheer willpower.”

His classmate laughs, “That’s what my soulmate said about me when we first met. He was all pouty because he was taking like three naps a day. I’m a sophomore trying to graduate a year early, so my sleep schedule wasn’t the best and I pulled a lot of all-nighters. Turns out he just really likes to nap because even now that I’ve fixed my sleep schedule he still takes, like, one or two naps every day.”

Kris snorts at that. It’s always cute to hear about soulmates, how they all just seem to fit together so neatly. Like puzzle pieces setting into place.

“Sophomore, huh? Didn’t expect that. You’re on track for graduating early, at least. How does your soulmate feel about that?” The class they’re walking to is a four-hundred level economics course meant for business students in their last semesters; Kris can’t help but be a little impressed.

“Nini’s pretty happy,” his classmate smiles, resting bitch face disappearing under a smile that makes Kris’ classmate look even younger than he is, “He’s my age but he’s a professional dancer and he choreographs for some K-pop groups in Korea. My soulmate was actually born in Korea and moved here for a special dance program in high school while I was born here. He’s been wanting to move back to be with his family but didn’t want to leave me here by myself to finish college. So me graduating early is, like, really great for him. I’m Sehun, by the way.”

“I’m Kris. That’s pretty cool how it all worked out for you guys. I’ve heard of some pretty shitty star-crossed lovers situations where they meet just as they’re about to leave for college on separate ends of the country or opposite sides of the world.” 

Sehun laughs and recounts the story of how his parents met in an airport. His mother was boarding a plane to college in Canada while his father was a cashier at one of the little kiosks, stuck watching his soulmate disappear to the other side of the world for four years. They worked it out, obviously, considering Sehun is here to tell the tale, but Kris snorts at Sehun’s dramatic reenactment of his father bawling at the kiosk while his mother’s plane takes off.

Kris muffles a yawn behind his hand and kicks at one of the rocks along the shaded path towards their classroom in the heart of campus. It bounces through the grass only to clang into the leg of a picnic table where a boy is sitting face-down in a textbook.

Kris sees him around sometimes, never his face because he’s always completely buried in books, but Kris can spot him by his dark brown hair and massive hoodies. Poor guy is always passed out in his notes or his textbook, probably stuck in the same boat as Kris with a soulmate that never sleeps. 

The boy doesn’t even flinch at the sound of rock hitting metal, so deeply asleep it would probably take the end of the world to wake him up. Kris shakes his head in sympathy. He’s slept like that before. He slept like that straight through all his alarms for a test a few weeks ago and only woke up when Zitao came in and literally yanked him off the bed.

He’d made it in time to take his test, but only just barely. 

Kris debates going over and waking the boy up just in case he has somewhere to be or something to do. But he decides against it. This might be the nap the boy needs to get through the rest of the day, and Kris would hate to be the asshole that ruins it for him.

Kris continues along the path with Sehun and hopes he and the boy at the picnic table both find their soulmates soon.

zzz

Kris opens the door to his apartment to reveal Zitao’s smiling face only to quickly shut it again. Zitao has ridiculously fast reflexes from all his years of martial arts though, so the little shit gets his foot between the door and the frame and shoves the door all the way open again. 

He stomps his way into the apartment with a pout on his face, “That wasn’t very nice, Kristopher! I came all this way to surprise you and you shut the door in my face!”

Kris closes the door behind Zitao before walking to the couch and throwing himself down onto it face first. “Don’t call me Kristopher, that’s not my name. You walked up a single flight of stairs to get here, Taozi, don’t act like it took any real effort. And it’s not like you came to see me, you just want to see if my parents sent a treat for you in my care package. They did, it’s on the counter.” 

Zitao scoffs but scurries to the kitchen to pick up the little package of sweets Kris’ mother always includes for him in the care package she sends Kris every month. “Ooh! They’re blueberry this time! Tell your mama I said thanks!”

Kris yawns, rubbing his face against one of the throw pillows, “Will do. Now take your candy and get out, it’s time for my nap.”

“When isn’t it time for your nap? You’re, like,  _ always  _ sleeping.” Zitao does not, in fact, take his candy and get out. Not that Kris really expected him to, because Zitao is scared of absolutely everything but him and so has the listening abilities of a particularly headstrong cat. Instead, Zitao sits at Kris’ little dining table and starts nibbling on one of his candies, humming happily to himself. “Can’t you talk through your bond and tell him to knock it off or something?”

“Since when could people talk through the soulmate bond? Or is it just that you and Han are  _ so connected  _ that you can read each other’s minds now?” Kris smirks when Zitao huffs. 

The other man tosses the roll of paper towels on the table at Kris’ head in retaliation and sticks out his tongue, a middle schooler in a college sophomore’s body. “No, I’m just saying that even before Han and I met I could sort of, like, pull him? Like if he was working himself too hard and I was really tired I could send a sign that he needed to go lay down for a little while.”

Kris hums. He’d never really heard of anything like that before. He’s heard that soulmates who had been together for a while could develop a sixth sense for their soulmate. There was a story in the news a few weeks ago about this woman who had been on a plane that went down in the middle of the ocean. She and her soulmate had been together for nearly two decades and the soulmate  _ swore  _ that she was still alive; her soulmate ended up on the search and rescue boat and somehow managed to guide the team straight to her soulmate with the rest of the survivors floating along on pieces of driftwood.

The communication thing Zitao is talking about sounds like something that he would’ve heard of before, but scientists have said that there’s only so much that they can explain. They say that each soulmate bond is unique, some with their own special powers, so maybe Zitao and Luhan are just special. Kris would believe it.

He met Zitao when he was six and Zitao was four. They grew up together in houses right across the street from each other, and Zitao was the only kid on the block, the only kid in their  _ entire _ school who wouldn’t go on a single date in high school because they were waiting for their soulmate. And, apparently, Luhan was the same way, stupidly in love with Zitao before he even met him.

They’re honestly pretty disgusting when they’re together, orbiting around each other and sharing lovesick looks like a bad romance movie. But Kris can’t fault them for it. They’re good for each other and Kris kind of likes to watch them interact.

He’s lonely and lives vicariously through his best friends, yes, but it’s not a crime or anything.

“Don’t you think that if it was something I could do that I would’ve done it already,” Kris sighs, not ready to deal with Zitao and his thousand ideas on how to fix Kris’ soulmate predicament. It’s all out of love, Kris knows that. Zitao wouldn’t be lobbing thoughtful suggestion after thoughtful suggestion at Kris’ unending exhaustion unless he really cared about him. But after a while the suggestions get old and all Kris wants to do is fucking  _ sleep. _

Like right now, Kris would really prefer to just get the two hour nap he scheduled himself and then go back to studying for his test on Monday. He managed to get some studying done last night through the power of caffeine and bubblegum pop music blasting in his ears, but it wasn’t as much as he’d have liked. 

And is it so much to ask of his soulmate that  _ he  _ be the one who is able to get actual work done?

“You really need your nap today, huh,” Zitao says, frowning again, a little hurt pout on his lips. “You’re not usually  _ this _ grouchy.”

Guilty, Kris sits up and rubs at his eyes. “I’m sorry, Taozi. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. Just let me sleep for a little bit, okay? I need to study and I’m pretty sure the dumbass on the other end of my soulmate bond is attempting the world record for consecutive hours gone without sleep. I’ll come down for dinner and maybe me, you, and Luhan can all play some video games until I inevitably pass out on your couch and you have to carry me to the guest room.”

Zitao perks back up almost instantly. “Yay! I’ll make sure we have some black tea for you to drink in case you get too tired! And if you fall asleep on the couch this time I’m leaving you there. You’re heavy for someone shaped like linguine.”

Kris chucks a pillow at Zitao as the little shit leaps out of his seat and sprints for the door, giggling like a little kid. “I’m whooping your ass for that later,” he shouts after him.

Kris is  _ not  _ shaped like linguine. Before his soulmate decided that sleep was for the weak, he used to hit the gym two or three times a week and was in relatively good shape. He hasn’t been able to work out as frequently as he used to, but he still has some muscle, just lean muscle instead of bulk.

Kris lays back down on the couch with a huff. He rests his head on his hands and stares up at the ceiling. Exhaustion weighs heavy on his mind, on his eyelids, pulling them shut against his will. 

He’s so tired of being so tired all the time.

Zitao’s words echo in his ears. He really does think that if he could communicate with his soulmate through the bond he would have done it by now with all the constant bitching he does about being so tired. But it couldn’t hurt to try.

Despite the fact that he’s completely alone in the apartment, Kris lets his eyes close all the way so that he doesn’t feel so exposed. His cheeks feel warm from cringey embarrassment as he says, “Hey, uh, soulmate. I’m your soulmate. Of course I am, I just fucking called you soulmate. But could you, like, maybe just go to sleep or taking a fucking nap or something? I’m exhausted all the time because of you and I have a test to study for so I’d really appreciate it. Thanks in advance and I hope to meet you soon, I guess? Well, not  _ I guess _ because I do want to meet you soon—this is getting out of hand. I’m going to take a nap, so you take one too and then we’ll both feel better.”

Face  _ burning _ red, Kris rolls over and covers his head with a pillow, screeching quietly into the fabric about feeling like an absolute idiot. Zitao probably didn’t mean for Kris to  _ actually  _ talk to his soulmate, just mess with the strange sensation of their bond that’s always in the back of his mind. 

But Kris is nothing if not a dumbass.

He sighs, maybe a little tearful because exhaustion has made him more emotional than usual. And then, within a matter of seconds, he has fallen completely asleep.

And if he wakes up a bit more alert than he expected, it’s only because he had a particularly restful nap and not because someone a mile away who’d been going on hour thiry of no sleep had the sudden, undeniable urge to crawl into bed and take a nice, long nap.

zzz

Kris scours the first floor of the library in search of a place to study. Zitao had suggested it as a good place to study, quiet enough to focus but so full of people that Kris’ innate self-consciousness might keep him awake. Kris prefers the upper levels of the library because the view is better, looking out over the campus through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Kris has distracted himself many a time just staring out the window at all the people milling around below, sometimes lying down in a patch of sunlight for a much needed nap after he’s gotten at least a little work done.

But it’s already dark outside; the moon is hidden behind the clouds as the streetlights shine down on the few students making their way to class or dinner or the library. Kris just finished his dinner in the dining hall two buildings down. Jongin’s dancer diet only allowed him to eat college student food every so often and so Sehun’s stupid amount of guest passes would go to waste if not for Kris and Zitao. 

The dark outside will just make sleep that much harder for Kris to stave off, so he winds through the lowest floor of the library, full of people and light and sounds that will keep him from passing out, for a place to sit. 

There are a few comfy armchairs left in the circle near the front. They’re always the last things to fill up, lacking any sort of table to spread notes out onto and difficult to work in if one needs anything more than just a laptop and a book.

And they’re so fucking comfortable that Kris can’t help but yawn just thinking about settling down in one of them and letting his head loll back into the plush softness.

He shakes his head and rubs at his eyes to push off the sleepiness tugging in the back of his mind. His fucking soulmate and their horrible fucking sleep schedule. 

Kris wanders past the armchairs to the group study area in the back. It’s mostly separate rooms full of engineering students screeching to each other about Hansen’s dreaded physics midterm, though Kris does see a group of sophomore girls staring stone-faced at what he thinks is an o-chem drawing on a whiteboard. One of them, a girl he knows from his basketball elective, meets his eyes and he salutes her.

She nods and stiffly turns back to the whiteboard, like a robot, like o-chem has sucked all the life and joy from her bones.

Past the group study area is the individual study. Kris stops at the yellow line meant to separate the two areas and stares out at the tables and little cubicles for people who  _ really  _ want to study by themselves. Kris sighs when he sees that it’s almost entirely full. Zitao had mentioned that a lot of classes in the sciences were having their midterms a week early, but Kris hadn’t thought that it would mean the entire library would be taken over by rabid, caffeine-deprived college students hissing about equations and chemical properties.

He’s so fucking glad he’s not a STEM major.

When Kris goes up on his toes he can see Zitao. The other man is situated in his own little cubicle with all his notes for primate evolution spread out around his laptop like a summoning circle for a finished presentation. He’d whined about having to catalogue the differences between  _ Paranthropus  _ and  _ Australopithecus  _ last weekend during dinner.

Kris remembers betting Luhan just how late the night before it was due that Zitao was going to start on the project. He remembers Zitao getting offended, huffing and puffing that not only was he going to start the project before the night it was due, he was going to finish  _ early _ .

Kris checks his phone. He snorts. The twenty-slide presentation is due in five hours.

**From: Me**

_ You owe me fifteen bucks _

**From: Luhan Ge**

_ just slipped it under ur door _

_ don’t distract him. i wanna get laid tonight _

Kris gags, just a little, and shoves his phone into his back pocket before wandering off to where there appears to be a few tables with empty seats. None of them are entirely empty, because that would be much too easy. But there are a few tables with a little bit of free space for Kris to squeeze himself into.

A familiar head of brown hair is sitting at one of the tables. There’s an empty seat next to him and Kris walks over with his hands in his pockets and what he hopes is a non-awkward smile on his face. 

He’s been meaning to actually introduce himself to the boy for a little now. He thought it would be nice to have someone to vent to, especially considering it seems like they’re in the same boat soulmate-wise. 

He comes to a stop behind the empty seat next to the boy who is furiously scribbling down notes from his textbook on what appears to be something related to plants. That sort of focus is actually sort of endearing. Kris wonders if he’s working so quickly because he’s trying to out race his soulmate’s exhaustion before it has him facedown in his textbook again. 

He wonders if the guy knows about Zitao’s communication trick. Kris has been using it quite a bit recently and has found that it works about eighty percent of the time. It’s not perfect. Kris will get a few days of not feeling like absolute death before his soulmate goes on something like a sleepless bender for a few days, like he’s in a panic because he actually got enough sleep to function for once.

Kris’ soulmate is unfathombly stupid, and Kris already sort of loves them for it.

Kris watches the other man write for a moment before gently tapping him on the shoulder. “Is this seat taken?”

Brown-haired man startles, jumping in his seat. Kris feels a little bad. He starts to apologize, but then the boy is collecting himself and shaking his head. “No,” he says, “You’re all good, go ahead.”

He raises his head with a tired, friendly smile on his face. Kris returns the smile on reflex before their eyes meet and he sees pretty dark brown. Plain, sweet dark brown. Hot chocolate in the winter, warm like the boy’s smile, his voice, his entire being. Kris could wake up every single morning to this warmth for the rest of his life and never want for anything more.

Kris stares into dark brown eyes and has a strange, bone-deep realization of  _ So you’re who I’ve been looking for.  _

His soulmate stares back with a look of absolute wonder. He’s handsome, cute, settling somewhere between the two with his big brown eyes and one dimple. His sweet, friendly smile grows until Kris feels like he’s looking directly at the sun. Kris’ own ball of sunshine. No one’s ever looked so excited to meet him before, staring up at him like he hung the moon and stars from the sky all by himself.

And so Kris feels a little bad when his initial wash of joy and astoundment is pushed aside for warm irritation—nothing real, because how can anyone be mad at a face like that—because  _ this  _ is the little asshole who’s been making his life a nightmare for the past few months. Kris scowls and pokes a finger at his soulmate’s surprisingly solid chest.

_ “You.” _

Kris’ soulmate seems to remember his own shitty sleeping schedule at the same time, smile dropping into something sheepish. 

He opens his pretty mouth like he’s going to try and explain, but Kris is already gathering up all the textbooks and notebooks and pens on the table and shoving them into the backpack hanging on the back of his soulmate’s chair.

“Wait,” his soulmate says, “That’s my stuff! What are you doing?” His soulmate starts to reach for the few things that are still out on the table with a little huff, eyebrows drawn together and a little pout on his lips. He’s pliant when Kris goes to shove his arms through his backpack straps though, mostly just stares up at Kris with those sweet eyes. Confusion is a very, very good look on him; Kris doesn’t know how to feel about that.

Kris pulls his newly found soulmate onto his feet and blinks when they’re standing eye-to-eye. He’d always just assumed that he’d be the tall one in the relationship. But he shrugs it off, happy to have a soulmate that he can probably convince to play basketball with him. 

He narrows his eyes at the way his soulmate’s bottom lip sticks out, cute and begging to be nipped at. He saves that thought for another time, when he’s not so fucking  _ tired _ . “You're getting your ass to bed.” And Kris then starts dragging him out of the library by the wrist. 

“Wait, no! I have a test to study for!” Kris’ soulmate tries to tug himself free of his grip. He succeeds for a moment and tries to run away, whining like he’s a child and not a roughly six-foot tall man. “Stop it! I need to study!”

Kris cares not for his soulmate’s whining. He will later, when he’s not so tired that he can process that his soulmate is quite possibly the biggest baby on the planet and what that’s going to mean for him, a man with a weak will in the face of cuteness. But for now, Kris fits both arms under his soulmate’s armpits and grabs him around the chest.

He hauls him backwards down the library steps and towards the center of campus. It’s an arduous process; the downside of having a soulmate of equal size is that he’s just as heavy and inconvenient to move as Kris is when he’s drunk and not ready to go home yet. “Let me go! I have to study, you jerk! I’m not even that tired!” His soulmate cranes his head back to look at Kris with the weakest scowl Kris has ever seen.

Other students stop and stare, watching Kris and his whiny soulmate go by in a storm of squirming, flailing limbs. They giggle. This isn’t the first time someone has had to haul their soulmate across campus to put them to bed and it certainly won’t be the last. 

Kris still remembers Zitao’s freshman year, when he got fucking plastered and Luhan was forced to carry him piggy-back back to their apartment. Zitao had bounced wildly between sobbing about how lovely his soulmate is and singing sappy love songs in Mandarin.

At least Kris’ soulmate is able to preserve a little bit of his dignity. Or he would be able to if he wasn’t squirming and kicking his feet, scowling up at Kris with eyes ringed in sleep-deprived bruises.

Everything almost goes to shit as they’re passing through the center of campus. A campus officer stops them under a stoplight, one hand at her waist like she’s reaching for her mace. “Is there a problem here, gentlemen,” her eyes dart between them, shifty and suspicious. 

And Kris realizes what this looks like if one doesn’t assume that they’re soulmates—him dragging a protesting man through campus in the dark. He also realizes that he could very well get arrested right now, or at least maced, depending on what his soulmate responds.

Because there’s no way the cop is going to believe anything the man physically dragging another person has to say.

There’s a few tense moments where Kris wonders if he’s about to get his ass handed to him. But then his soulmate is huffing, “It’s fine, he’s my soulmate.”

The cop nods, very obviously not convinced that there’s nothing shady going on between them. “So long as you’re sure. There are emergency buttons all over campus, just look for the blue lights.”

Kris grimaces. He debates kissing the top of his soulmate’s head, partly to show the cop that he has absolutely  _ no _ interest in hurting his soulmate and partly because the brown hair tickling his chin is very soft and would probably feel very nice against his lips. He decides against it only because he’s known his soulmate for a good ten minutes.

“Do you live in the dorms,” Kris asks once the cop is out of sight. “Because I’m about to drag your ass all the way back to my apartment if you don’t give me another option.”

His soulmate huffs. “Take me back to your apartment,” he says after a moment, “I don’t want my roommates to make fun of me.”

Kris’ mouth curves into a small smile. He’ll get to have his soulmate all to himself.

They’re nearing the bus stop at the edge of campus when Kris pauses under a streetlight. “Are you,” he shuffles in place for a moment, adjusting his grip on his soulmate, “Are you good to walk on your own now? This is a little awkward.”

His soulmate shakes his head with a pout. “You started this, you finish it… And I’m tired.”

Kris snorts. His soulmate is a bit of a brat, helpful information for later. “Fair enough,” he shrugs and starts dragging his soulmate towards the bus stop again. “You’re the one who looks ridiculous though.” His soulmate makes a face at that, cheeks dusting pink in the light of the streetlight. 

It’s so cute that Kris nearly kisses him. He doesn’t, but only just. 

Kris does release him as they’re waiting for the bus. They sit beside each other on the bench with their backpacks in their laps. The bus isn’t coming for another five minutes, and the silence between them seems to stretch on for miles. Kris never expected to have one of those relationships where they meet and are absolutely inseparable, in love at first sight. But no one ever said how fucking  _ awkward  _ it could be.

He fumbles, scouring his brain for something to say. It’s his fault things are so uncomfortable, considering he dragged his soulmate kicking and screaming across campus instead of having a fucking conversation. But his brain is running on fumes and the only thoughts he can sustain involve forcing his soulmate to get eight hours of sleep and wrapping himself around his newly found soulmate like a limpet.

So, instead of doing anything useful, he sits beside his soulmate in absolute silence while his brain whirrs helplessly inside his skull.

“Can I...uh,” his soulmate is the one to break the silence. He fidgets with the strap of his back, worrying at a loose thread. He’s got a little half-smile on his face that makes his dimple pop out, something that is very, very bad for Kris’ blood pressure. “Could you, like, tell me your name before I spend the night in your apartment? I know you’re my soulmate and you obviously aren’t going to kill me with an axe or something, but I’d like to know your name.”

Kris stares back with wide eyes. Mortification in the pit of his stomach. Their first meeting and Kris yells at him, drags him across campus, and never even bothers to tell his new soulmate his  _ name _ .

“Oh shit! Yeah, yeah, of course you can,” Kris runs his hands through his hair as the words spill out of him completely uncontrolled. “Holy shit, I’m sorry. My name is Kris, Kris Wu. You can call me Yifan if you want, that’s what my family calls me. But I use Kris in America because most people don’t bother to try to pronounce Chinese names. I’m Chinese, by the way. Like I was born in China and then I lived in Canada for a little while growing up and now I’m going to college here. You’re very handsome.”

His soulmate blinks, very obviously taken back by the sudden verbal downpour. Kris wonders for a moment if he’s somehow managed to make things even  _ more  _ awkward. Then, like the sun breaking from the clouds or something else uncomfortably cheesy but very applicable, Kris’ soulmate beams at him. “I’m Chanyeol Park. I’m Korean but I’ve never lived there or anything. You’re very handsome too.”

Kris rolls Chanyeol’s name around inside his head and decides that he must have saved a burning orphanage in his past life to deserve the man sitting next to him, fucked up sleep schedule and all.

And that is how Kris, despite being an absolute, sleep-deprived monster who did nearly everything wrong upon meeting his soulmate, manages to have one of the sweetest men alive sitting next to him on the bus ride back to his apartment. Their fingers are laced together in Kris’ lap and Chanyeol’s head is resting on Kris’ shoulder. 

Chanyeol had mumbled about still needing to study for his test as they boarded the bus and Kris paid for his fare, but his eyelids were already starting to droop even before they sat down. 

Kris smiles to himself at the soft snores floating up to his ears. The exhaustion in the back of his mind is already starting to lift. Chanyeol’s hair tickles his jaw, mussed and fluffy. Kris changes his grip on Chanyeol’s hand to his other hand and puts his now free arm around Chanyeol’s shoulders. 

His heart races in his chest at finally having his soulmate close. The excitement is enough to keep him awake all through the bus ride back to his apartment.

He guides a very sleepy Chanyeol up to his apartment. Chanyeol grumbles a bit when Kris pulls him to stand, but is seemingly happy to let himself be tugged into the apartment building and into the elevator. He dozes off against the elevator wall as they go up and up.

The elevator is old and not very well taken care of. It jerks when it comes to a stop and Chanyeol starts, eyes flying open in shock. Kris just barely resists the urge to go over and hug him close, kiss his temple and risk his back muscles by picking him up and carrying him the rest of the way to the apartment.

Kris sighs instead. He takes Chanyeol by the hand and gently pulls him out of the elevator. The other man faceplants into Kris’ back as he hurries to unlock his front door and Kris can’t help but wonder when was the last time his soulmate got any sleep. “Come on,” Kris coaxes Chanyeol into kicking off his shoes and leaving his backpack by the front door, “I’ve got some pajamas for you and then you can pass out in my bed. I’ll take the couch, just make sure to tell me when you need to be up so I can set an alarm.”

Chanyeol yawns and rubs at his eyes, blinking so sleepily. “Don’t wanna kick you out of your bed,” he murmurs. “That’s your bed. It’s already my fault your sleep’s all messed up.”

Kris laughs to himself. He sits Chanyeol on the edge of the bed and tosses him a comfortable shirt and a pair of basketball shorts to sleep in. “You’re my guest, Chanyeol, and my soulmate. And neither of those things sleep on the couch. I wasn’t raised in a barn.”

Kris turns his back to give them both a bit of privacy to change clothes. 

When he turns back around, Chanyeol is wearing his clothes. It does something very bad but also very good to Kris’ heart, because he’s  _ just  _ that much bigger than Chanyeol and the little bit of looseness in the shoulders is so precious. Chanyeol is also wearing a pout that is undermined by the way he can’t seem to keep his eyes open for more than a second at a time.

“Then come sleep with me.” Kris wheezes for a second and Chanyeol’s cheeks and ears turn red. “Not like that,” he cries, “But your bed is big enough for both of us to sleep in.”

“We literally just met,” Kris is hesitant, a little reluctant to just fling himself into bed. He would love to sleep next to Chanyeol. Who wouldn’t want to sleep next to their soulmate? But they met maybe an hour ago and Chanyeol is so tired he can barely get a full sentence out without yawning.

“So what? You’re my soulmate. You’re, like, the only person in the world I  _ want  _ to sleep with. Not like that! Or yeah, like that, but not now!” Chanyeol burrows under the covers when Kris can’t stifle his laugh. “Just get over here! We’re both tired, so just come to bed so we don’t feel like shit in the morning.”

And there’s no way of saying no to that, so Kris turns out the light and slips underneath the covers beside Chanyeol. 

He’s stiff as a board until Chanyeol’s breathing evens out into that of someone sleeping like the dead. He slowly relaxes and rolls over to stare at his soulmate in the dark. Their shared exhaustion pounces on him seconds after he gets comfortable, sinking its claws into his brain and dragging him down into sleep.

zzz

Chanyeol Park is a sophomore majoring in biology. He lives in a two-bedroom dorm on the east end of campus with his best friend, Baekhyun, and their two roommates, Junmyeon and Minseok. He’s got an older sister named Yoora who lives in the same town they grew up in a state away. She helps out with the family restaurant from time to time, though Chanyeol says he’s always been the Mama’s boy running around the kitchen.

Chanyeol Park usually sleeps with a stuffed ferret, and he either takes up the entire bed or turns into an octopus, wrapping around anyone who dares sleep in his vicinity. Not that he sleeps much. 

Chanyeol Park is Kris’ soulmate, and Kris ridiculously, hopelessly enamored with him and his too-big ears. 

The morning after they met, Kris woke at dawn to find Chanyeol studying his flat ass off at the dining table. His head was buried in his book again and he was just—frantic. Chanyeol is frantic when it comes to studying for tests. He’d studied all morning except for a sweet  _ good morning _ kiss to Kris’ cheek that most certainly did  _ not  _ have Kris shoving his head in the fridge to calm down. Kris had barely been able to feed his soulmate a few bites of toast before Chanyeol took off back to campus for an eight-thirty botany class.

He had forgotten to change back into his clothes from the day before; Kris smiled every single time he caught sight of his own basketball shorts running from building to building. He smiled when he realized he wasn’t deathly exhausted for once in his goddamn life.

A sheepish Chanyeol found him in the dining hall that evening, still wearing Kris’ clothes.  _ Mind if I sit with you?  _ He’d offered Kris his number, asked if he’d want to come over to Chanyeol’s dorm that night and spend a little time together since he was no longer drowning under the weight of an exam.

Kris, of course, jumped at the chance to spend actual time with his soulmate. Chanyeol went with him back to his apartment to get a few things in case he ended up spending the night and Kris was given a crash course in all things Chanyeol. Chanyeol tends to ramble, had all but vomited words that night as they sat next to each other on the rug beside Chanyeol’s bed. Kris had listened with rapt attention, dismissing Chanyeol’s little apologies about oversharing. Who the fuck doesn’t listen when their soulmate starts opening up?

They stayed up to an unreasonable hour talking about themselves, about their families and friends. Kris fell asleep with Chanyeol curled into his side, the two of them somehow squeezed onto Chanyeol’s tiny twin bed as the sun began to rise. 

And they haven’t really been apart since.

Kris has never felt so well-rested before. No matter where they end up sleeping, squeezed together in Chanyeol’s dorm or comfortably settled in Kris’ apartment, Kris is adamant about ushering Chanyeol to bed by eleven every night—the first night in Chanyeol’s dorm excluded, of course. Chanyeol was a little whiny about it at first, but he quickly gave in after getting a taste of what not being exhausted feels like.

Early mornings are the norm now instead of late nights. It kind of sucks because Kris values sleeping in; drinking coffee in the early morning sun with Chanyeol is quickly climbing his list of priorities though. Kris’ living room is slowly being rearranged to fit Chanyeol’s style, couch pushed up against the windows so that they can study together in the warm sunlight. 

Not that Kris gets much studying done when Chanyeol’s around because the novelty of finding his soulmate has yet to wear off and he just can’t stop  _ looking _ at Chanyeol. His handsome, nerdy sweetheart of a soulmate.

Life is good, great,  _ perfect _ . 

Then, maybe three weeks after that first night, Chanyeol’s chemistry class has a midterm exam. Chanyeol studies chemistry pretty hard; he roped Kris into reviewing flashcards together and actually reads his textbook before lecture. So Kris didn’t think anything of it when Chanyeol brought it up over breakfast Saturday morning. 

_ Just study a little more, Yeollie. You’ll do great. _

He just kissed Chanyeol on the forehead and hauled him over to the couch to work on assignments together, case considered closed.

Kris is very surprised then, when Chanyeol goes home Saturday night after three weeks of sleeping together. Kris wakes Monday morning feeling more tired than when he went to sleep. He blames it on his fitful night, too used to sleeping next to Chanyeol. He sends his soulmate many texts that go unanswered until Sunday night.

**From: Me**

_ U okay baby? _

_ Haven’t heard from u all day :( i miss u _

_ Chanyeol? Are you there? _

_ Did something happen? Did I do something to upset you? If I did, please tell me so I can make it up to you _

**From: Yeollie**

_ Hey _

_ Sorry _

_ I was busy _

_ U didn’t do anything wrong!! _

_ I was just really busy and didn’t have time to text u back _

_ Im really sorry ill try to be better about responding _

**From: Me**

_ No its okay! I was just worried! _

_ Do you wanna come over tomorrow? Or tonight? I can ask to borrow Luhan’s car and come get you _

**From: Yeollie**

_ No im sorry _

_ Im still really busy studying for my test on thursday and i really need to focus _

_ But from thursday night on im all yours!!!  _

**From: Me**

_ Ah okay _

_ Ill see you then i guess _

**From: Yeollie**

_ im sorry _

_ I miss you too _

And Kris isn’t too prideful to admit that the rejection stings like hell. He tosses his phone onto his bed as it buzzes again, probably more texts from Chanyeol. He’s seen him send pouty selfies to Baekhyun before as a way of apology and wouldn’t put it past him to send a few to Kris as well if he thinks it’ll smooth everything over. Usually, Kris would be happy to be attacked by pictures of his pretty soulmate, but something just isn’t sitting right with him at the moment.

He’s never met anyone who gets so neurotic about studying like Chanyeol. He  _ knows  _ Chanyeol knows that material; he’s a hard worker and good student and he doesn’t need to cram for tests like this. And he knows Chanyeol is cramming. His being busy is just a pretense for him locking himself in his room with his textbooks and notes and going over everything a couple million times. 

The fatigue sitting on Kris’ shoulders makes a lot more sense now. 

Chanyeol probably didn’t sleep at all last night. On a few of the nights Kris spent at Chanyeol’s dorm, Baekhyun waited until Chanyeol went to get food or take a shower and told Kris all about how his soulmate gets before exams and big projects. He doesn’t eat much, hardly sleeps at all, only leaves the dorm to go to class or the library when he needs a change of scenery.  _ I’m so glad he’s got you now. I try to reel him in, but there’s no cure for workaholism like a soulmate. _

Kris sits down on the couch and runs his hands through his hair. He knows Chanyeol’s class schedule by heart now, knows where he’ll be and when. He’ll just have to run into him between classes tomorrow and check in on him, maybe buy him lunch and squirrel him away for a quick nap in one of the campus gardens under the pretense of a quick lunch date.

That night, before bed, Kris grabs his phone and swipes through the pouty, kitten-filtered selfies Chanyeol sent en mass. They’re all unfairly cute, of course, and every last one of them is saved onto Kris’ phone for later viewing. It’s part blackmail and part Kris just wanting to be able to look at Chanyeol’s face whenever he damn well pleases. He sends back one selfie of his own just to get a cloud of exclamation points and heart emojis back.

**From: Me**

_ Going to bed. Goodnight baby _

**From: Yeollie**

_ Goodnight!! Sweet dreams!! _

Monday comes, and Kris can’t find Chanyeol anywhere. He runs around campus in search of his soulmate, eyes peeled for a head of fluffy brown hair even as they protest being open in the first place. Tiredness settling over him like a weighted blanket. But Chanyeol is nowhere to be found, not the library, not the dining hall, not any of the picnic tables he likes to sit at. 

Kris searches for him in every spare second between classes, sending a text once to ask if he’d like to get lunch or just walk to class together. Chanyeol never responds. The messages are never even marked as read.

Kris does run into Baekhyun after his last class. What actually happens is that Kris walks out of his last class to see Baekhyun waiting for him underneath a tree. He’s got dark circles under his eyes and is leaning against the tree, head bobbing as he fights sleep. The other man perks up when he sees Kris, “Hey! I’ve been looking all over for you!”

“Me,” Kris asks, “Why?”

Baekhyun shakes his head and sighs the long-suffering sigh of someone with an idiot as a best friend. Kris would know, he’s been friends with Zitao since they were children. “Chanyeol’s having his usual pre-exam panic study session. He’s like really freaking out now though, skipped class today and hasn’t slept more than an hour since Saturday. It’s fucking crazy, man, I swear. I stole all his Monsters from the fridge and then I turn around and he’s pulling a fucking sixteen pack out from under his bed! Could you come talk some sense into him? Or drag him back to your place to sleep?”

Baekhyun tosses Kris his dorm key before Kris can answer. “Please, Kris. He has to use his desk lamp when he’s awake and the light makes it hard for me to sleep. You’re his soulmate. You know how fucking horrible sleep deprivation is.”

“Yeah,” Kris yawns, “Yeah, I fucking do. He hasn’t been answering my texts though. I don’t know if he wants to see me right now.”

“Of course he does! You’re his soulmate! When  _ doesn’t _ he want to see you?” Baekhyun beams at him, begging with his eyes. “Come on, man, please. If he gets upset, tell him I sent you and said that he wanted to see you.”

Kris sighs. He should know better, should do better, but the exhaustion, while not as bad as it was before he and Chanyeol met, is too much to bear after three weeks without it. He doesn’t understand how he functioned for as long as he did. Hell, he doesn’t understand how  _ Chanyeol  _ functioned, how he’s functioning at the moment. He’s probably worn thin by now. So Kris lets that worry sit under his skin, “Yeah, I’ll go check on him. But if he gets mad you’re under the bus.”

“Fair enough.”

Kris knocks on Chanyeol’s door before entering. The door swings open before Chanyeol can respond though, and Kris’ heart wrenches at the sight on the other side of the door— Chanyeol in the same clothes he was wearing when he left Kris’ apartment on Saturday, hunched over his desk surrounded by empty energy drink cans and snack-sized chip bags. 

Chanyeol looks up at the sound of the door opening with bloodshot eyes. He looks tired. He looks fucking  _ exhausted _ . 

He looks so, so embarrassed when he realizes it’s Kris standing in the doorway. His eyes widen and he starts scrambling to clean up his mess. Kris can only watch as his soulmate stumbles out of his desk chair. “H-hey, Kris,” Chanyeol attempts a smile even as his voice comes out hoarse.

“Hey, baby.”

“What are you doing here? I was just studying.” Kris walks over and kneels down beside Chanyeol with open arms. Chanyeol falls into them easily, gratefully. “Missed you,” he murmurs. “‘S weird, you know? I lived my whole life without you and now we go three days apart and I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

Kris just nods. He feels exactly the same. “You should come over tonight then. I’ll make dinner and we can just spend some time together.” Chanyeol yawns into Kris’ shoulder.

“I’m sorry, but I still have to study. Thursday night, though. I promise. I  _ pinky promise _ .” Chanyeol pulls back and rubs at his eyes, fixing Kris with that sweet stare. “I’m all yours after my test. But...but thanks for coming to check on me. Maybe we can get dinner together tonight at the dining hall? Just for a little bit?”

But Kris has a sinking suspicion that if he and Chanyeol go to dinner now that Chanyeol is going to work himself even harder to make up for lost time. Kris wonders if he’s being overbearing now, ambushing Chanyeol like this when he knows his soulmate’s not doing so hot. He doesn’t entirely care though, because Chanyeol is pale with big circles under his eyes and he can’t seem to stop yawning. Dank and dark, the room smells like powder cheese dust and the sickly sweetness of energy drinks. 

Chanyeol’s bed is perfectly made.

“You’ve studied enough. You know the material, you’ll do fine on the test. Just rest for a little while. Please, Yeollie, you think I don’t know that you haven’t been sleeping? Haven’t been eating or drinking anything that’s not absolute trash? What hurts you hurts me too,” Kris kisses Chanyeol’s cheek. Soft but a little too greasy, Kris runs his fingers through Chanyeol’s hair.

Chanyeol pulls away then. He stands, back to Kris, and starts gathering up the trash in the room. Kris calls his name softly, but Chanyeol doesn’t respond. He calls again and he gets waved over to Chanyeol’s bed.

“Sleep,” Chanyeol says. “J-just sleep, okay? My bed’s more comfortable when it’s only one person, you know?” He keeps his face turned away, but Kris can hear the shaking, trembling of his voice. 

“Yeollie. Chanyeol, c’mere.” Kris reaches for him again.

Chanyeol just keeps moving and moving. “A-and then after you sleep for a little while we can go get dinner and then you can spend the night here. I’ll come join you eventually, once I feel like I’ve gotten enough done for tonight.” He hiccups once, twice, stops in front of his desk as his shoulders shake.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m really sorry, Kris. I always knew that I was probably really messing with someone when I pulled all-nighters like this, but it never felt real because they were just faceless. But now I know that I’m hurting you when I do this shit. You feel just as tired as I do and it’s not your fault because you go to bed on time and shit but you still have to deal with me. And I’m just—I’m really sorry.”

Kris gets up and pulls Chanyeol back to the bed with him at that point. Chanyeol goes easily even as he does his best to keep Kris from seeing his face, landing next to Kris on the bed with a soft  _ thump.  _

He rolls over and presses his face into the sheets. Kris lies down beside him and rubs his back, humming softly to himself. For a little while, Kris thinks that Chanyeol might’ve just worn himself out and fallen asleep. 

“It really, really fucking sucks. I feel horrible because I know I’m making life harder for you so I try to rest a little, but then I feel horrible because I’m not studying as hard as I should.”

“Chanyeol,” Kris sighs, “you study nearly every single day. There’s no reason for you to panic and start cramming like this. You’re going to do just fine on your test.”

Chanyeol finally looks at him, turning his head to stare at Kris with teary eyes. “‘Just fine’ isn’t good enough. I need to do  _ excellent.  _ I need to get a one hundred.”

“Why?”

Chanyeol opens his mouth, then closes it before shrugging. He’s hiding something; Kris can see it in the way his soulmate won’t look him in the eyes anymore. He doesn’t pry, decides to wait for Chanyeol to tell him freely. He tucks some of Chanyeol’s hair behind his ear and smiles softly to himself.

“Nevermind, just trust me when I say that you don’t need to do this to yourself. I’ll help you study, if you want. We’re a team now, right? That’s what being soulmates is about, not having to do everything yourself anymore.” Kris pulls Chanyeol in closer and laughs at the contented little hum that he gets in response. “God, that was so fucking cheesy.”

Chanyeol giggles, “I like cheesy. It’s sweet, you know. There’s a reason things are cliche and shit, it’s because it works. Like how sometimes I call you ‘my other half’. Cheesy, but works.” 

“You call me your other half?” Chanyeol’s face suddenly turns bright red. He covers his face with his hands and whines when Kris pinches his sides and kisses the red tips of his too-large ears. “That’s so cute, baby.”

“God, shut up. Now I get what you mean. This is so embarrassing.” Kris just laughs and laughs. 

Chanyeol waits until Kris has finished laughing before gently shoving Kris onto his back. His head is a warm, welcome weight on Kris’ chest, their joined hands resting on Kris’ stomach. “Did you mean it?”

Kris hums, “Mean what?” 

“That you’d help me study? I’m so tired, Kris. You let me spoil myself with a good sleep schedule and now my body has decided it never wants to be sleep-deprived again.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t say something I didn’t mean, especially not to you. How about we go to sleep now and then I’ll help you study a little in the morning.” Kris leans in and presses their lips together softly, mostly just happy to be in Chanyeol’s space again. “I’ll clean up after you fall asleep, okay?”

Chanyeol huffs, “You shouldn’t be cleaning up after my messes. I’ll do it when I wake up.”

“Just let me take care of you.” Chanyeol attempts to pin him with a scowl, but it’s ruined by his jaw-cracking yawn. “Go to sleep and let me take care of you. It is my honor as your soulmate and other half.” Chanyeol fakes a gag. They giggle, a little fucked up from sleep-deprivation. Kris tugs the blanket out from underneath them and covers them up. Chanyeol’s desk lamp is still on, bright in the darkness of the room. It’s too bright for Kris to sleep, mostly just resting his eyes to the sound of Chanyeol’s breathing. 

zzz

Chanyeol gets an A on his test, like Kris knew he would. To celebrate, they spend the entire weekend at Kris’ apartment watching movies and attempting different recipes Kris pulls off the internet. They set off the smoke alarm twice, laughing and coughing as they furiously research how to put out grease fires.

Sunday night, Chanyeol tells Kris that he loves him. Kris cries like a little bitch and somehow manages to say it back through his waterfall of tears.

zzz

“Kris!” Kris looks away from where he’s guarding Luhan to see Chanyeol approaching the bleachers on the side of the basketball court. He’s got his favorite blue sweater on and his botany textbook in his arms. The wind that has whipped Kris’ hair all over has also turned Chanyeol’s cheeks pink. He smiles and waves, eyes bright and warm even though winter is right around the corner. 

Kris can’t help but wave and smile back, heart flipping uselessly in his chest. That’s his soulmate, his sweet, lovely, adorable soulmate. 

“Quit fuckin’ around, man,” Richard, one of Zitao’s classmates that had been recruited for the four-on-four game, spits as he runs past to stop Luhan from getting too close to their net. He’s kind of a dick, but he’s good at basketball and never invites himself to the occasional dinner Kris, Luhan, and Zitao go to after a game. “Eyes off the twink and on the ball.”

Kris sputters. Zitao cackles like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard—little shit. Like he’s not an even bigger twink than Chanyeol. At least Chanyeol has the capability to become a himbo with some effort and a lot of exercise.

“That’s my soulmate.” Kris watches Chanyeol settle on the bleachers for just a moment, just a few more seconds. The ball goes sailing by his head out of nowhere, nearly slamming into his jaw. Zitao laughs again and goes running after it, Richard hot on his heels.

“Good for you. I don’t give a fuck, just play the game.” 

Luhan makes a sloppy bounce pass to Minseok that Kris is able to intercept. He chances another glance to see if Chanyeol saw it; a part of him puffs up with pride when he meets Chanyeol’s gaze. Zitao gags loudly and Kris wonders if he puffed up physically as well.

His soulmate lets out a little cheer from the sidelines. Kris almost wants to get him some little pompoms. Even if they would just end up thrown right back at him, he knows Chanyeol would play along for a few seconds and those few seconds would be worth it.

“For fuck’s sake, Kris, quit staring at Chanyeol and play,” Luhan shouts, huffing with his hands on his knees. 

And, well, if even Luhan is getting irritated, maybe he’s being a little too  _ much _ . Not that Chanyeol minds. Chanyeol never minds, soaks up the attention like a giant, adoring sponge. A giant, adoring sponge that will still be waiting for him on the bleachers when the game is over, so Kris passes the ball to Richard and takes off down the court. If Luhan gets pissy, he won’t pay for dinner afterwards. Kris always makes sure to never go out if he can’t afford it but who in their right mind turns down free food?

They lose. Junmyeon attempted a lay-up at the buzzer but Kyungsoo, one of their usual players who is currently resting a rolled ankle from last week’s game, offered to be their timekeeper and said it was two seconds too late. 

There’s some minor huffing and puffing about the tie, mostly Richard with his poor bruised ego and Junmyeon who only played this week to sub in for Kyungsoo. Junmyeon, doubled over but preening under the compliments Minseok rains down on him, gets a pat on the back as Kris makes his way to Chanyeol. “Not too shabby.”

“Thanks,” Junmyeon pants, “I’m never doing this again.”

Kris laughs the rest of the way across the court. Chanyeol is already waiting for him at the foot of the bleachers, backpack slung over his shoulder and arms wide open. 

Kris falls into them, easy as breathing. “Missed you,” he murmurs, the skin of Chanyeol’s cheek soft and warm under his lips.

They haven’t seen each other since Thursday night because Chanyeol spent the long weekend back home. He’d invited Kris to join him, but Kris had made plans to help a friend of his mother get all her stuff to the airport for her move back to China. Instead, he drove Chanyeol to the bus stop Thursday night and gave maybe six goodbye kisses too many. 

He waited until the bus was out of sight before trudging back to his apartment to wallow in misery, so lonely without Chanyeol beside him. It still sounds so stupid to Kris, that he can miss one single person  _ that  _ much.

Logically, it was only four days apart. They’d gone nearly that long during Chanyeol’s last nervous breakdown over an exam. But goddamn, those four days felt like  _ centuries. _

Kris doesn’t understand how long-distance soulmates can stand it. He’d go fucking insane if he had to spend more than a few weeks away from Chanyeol, like the deepest part of him was being ripped in two.

Zitao was, surprisingly, very understanding. He said it got easier the more times it happened, but that Kris would always, always,  _ always _ have a free pass to complain about missing Chanyeol and a place on his and Luhan’s couch. 

_ Shit hurts, man. Luhan had to go on a month-long business trip after we met and I swear to God I climbed the walls of his apartment waiting for him to come back. _

He clings tight to the fabric of Chanyeol’s sweater. Chanyeol isn’t as clingy, a little weary of the sweat running down Kris’ body. Still, he leans his head on Kris’ shoulder and whispers, “Missed you more,” all the same.

“Not possible.”

“Yes possible. Don’t argue with me, I’ll win.” Chanyeol giggles as Kris scoffs. Chanyeol only wins because Kris cares more about making his soulmate happy than being right. He tightens his old around Chanyeol’s middle just to hear him squawk.

With the rest of the basketball players occupied rehydrating and talking about classes, Kris pulls Chanyeol behind the bleachers. Chanyeol doesn’t look even a little confused, one of those devastating smiles playing at the edges of his lips. 

They haven’t even rounded the corner of the bleachers before they’re kissing, lips connecting softly, warmly, like coming home, curling up in bed after a long day. Kris sighs into Chanyeol’s mouth, hands slipping under that soft blue sweater. Soft skin, smooth under Kris’ fingers, Chanyeol’s abs flex but Kris is more interested in the pretty silver bar in Chanyeol’s belly button. Chanyeol calls it a drunken mistake; Kris calls it the best thing to ever exist.

They giggle like highschoolers, wrapped up in each other. 

Kris wants to feel like this for the rest of his life. And he will.

“How long do we have,” Chanyeol asks.

Kris smirks even though he knows Chanyeol thinks he looks like an idiot when he does. “Why? What are you wanting to do?” He forces as much greasy salaciousness into his voice as possible just to watch his soulmate roll his eyes.

“Nothing dirty, you goof. I just wanted to be alone with you for a little bit. I really missed you, Kris.” Chanyeol leans in to kiss him again. His hands cup Kris’ cheeks, thumb running over his ears, devoid of piercings for once so that they didn’t catch on anything during the game. “Do you have your earrings in your bag? I’ll put them back in for you before we head to dinner.”

Kris nods, “Okay. But you know that we can just skip dinner, right? I’ll just cook for us back at my place or we can go hit up the dining hall if you wanna go to your dorm.”

“Skip free dinner? Are you feeling okay?”

Chanyeol smiles. His fingers are soft in Kris’ hair. Kris had thought about dying his hair blonde like how he had it in high school, worried the black made him look plain, but Chanyeol says he loves how he looks just like this. Kris steals another kiss, two, three, maybe four.

“Perfect, now that you’re here,” Kris says. Chanyeol pretends to gag, but his ears turn red, cheeks dusting pink. “You’re more important than free food, Yeollie. You wanna be alone? We’ll have dinner by ourselves.”

“Hey, noodle boys,” Zitao shouts, “let’s go! I’m hungry and Luhan promised me Italian food!”

Kris stares at his soulmate with raised eyebrows, waiting for an answer. Chanyeol shakes his head and pushes Kris’ hands out from under his sweater before taking him by the hand to tug him back to where the rest of their friends are waiting for them. “Free food is free food, baby. Besides, I’ll have you all to myself tonight.”

“Yes, yes you will.” Kris lets himself be led out onto the court again, bending down to scoop up his bag. 

zzz

Kris closes the apartment door as gently as he can, hissing quietly at the little  _ click  _ of the latch. He toes his shoes off by the door. He hadn’t meant to stay out so late, told Zitao he’d have a drink or two at the most, but Yixing and Jongdae came to visit and there’s nothing like clubbing with Yixing and Jongdae. So Kris is only stumbling home at one in the morning with enough alcohol in his system to make Minseok proud and hopefully enough Taco Bell to stave off a hangover.

“Yeollie,” he whispers into the quiet darkness of the apartment. “You awake?” Kris hopes not. He hopes his soulmate went to bed once Kris texted him after his second drink and told him he was going to be out later than expected; Chanyeol is usually his DD, too young to drink but happy to let a drunken, cuddly Kris flop all over him, but he’s got a math test coming up and decided to stay home.

Kris tiptoes to the bedroom. All he wants to do is lie down and wrap around Chanyeol like an octopus and maybe sleep off the horrible idea that was that last shot of vodka. 

He finds his soulmate asleep at their desk, slouched over his textbooks. Kris can’t help but coo and shuffle forward, reaching out to play with his hair and rub some of the strain out of his shoulders. It reminds him of when he used to see Chanyeol all over campus sleeping just like this and had no idea that he was staring at the top of his soulmate’s head. “Oh, baby, you’re going to be so sore in the morning,” he chuckles. 

“Guh,” Chanyeol’s head shoots up. Kris laughs until he notices the moonlight reflecting off two tracks running down his cheeks. Maybe he wasn’t actually sleeping all those times Kris saw him around campus.

Chanyeol wipes furiously at his face the second he notices Kris’ stare.

He’s up and moving, stripping off his shirt and grabbing his pajamas off the bed. “H-hey, you’re home! Have a good time? Here, let’s get ready for bed and you can tell me all about your night out. Or we can just cuddle for a little while and go to sleep and you can tell me in the morning.”

“Yeollie-”

“I got a lot of work done tonight! I think if you help me review a little tomorrow I’ll be pretty much set and we can relax tomorrow night,” Chanyeol rambles. 

Kris catches him by the waist as he walks by on his way to the bathroom. “Chanyeol, what’s wrong? Why are you crying? C’mere, baby, talk to me.” Chanyeol squirms once and then slumps against Kris’ chest. Kris stumbles under the sudden weight, alcohol making him dizzy. He steadies himself before waddling them both over to the bed.

Chanyeol gives a wet laugh, “I think you had too much to drink.” 

“Maybe. Doesn’t mean I’m not here for you. Tell me what’s going on.” They hit the mattress, Chanyeol on top of Kris. It knocks the wind out of him but it makes Chanyeol laugh and that makes it worth it. “So, you gonna tell me why you were crying,” he asks once they’ve made their way up to the head of the bed.

Chanyeol sighs and rolls away, onto his back. He stares up at the ceiling. Kris watches as a tear rolls down his face and wipes it away with his thumb. Chanyeol grabs his hand before he can pull it back and holds it to his chest, playing with his fingers. “I got a D on my last paper.”

Kris frowns. “Oh no! I’m sorry, you worked so hard on that one. The one for your botany class?”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol nods, “That one.”

“But your professor drops your lowest grade for that class and you’ve gotten A’s on every other paper. I’m drunk, but I’m still your soulmate. I can tell that’s not what’s really bothering you. And I’m pretty sure that whatever it is is the same thing that was bothering you a few weeks ago.” Kris uses Chanyeol’s grip on his hand to kiss his knuckles. “I know I said that I’d wait until you were ready to talk to me about this stuff, but I just—talk to me. You don’t have to tell me everything, just something. I’m here for you. I’m  _ always _ going to be here for you.”

“I know, but—I always feel so  _ stupid  _ when I think about why I’m like this. Even my parents have said that I can chill out, but I just  _ can’t.”  _ The alarm clock on the bedside table ticks away the seconds as Kris waits for Chanyeol to continue.

“My family’s restaurant is doing well, right? But it’s not doing great or anything and restaurants don’t last forever, not often, at least. What if we lose the restaurant? My parents are getting older, what if something happens to them,” Chanyeol’s voice starts to crack and Kris scoots across the bed to put his head on his soulmate’s shoulder. “Yoora is working on getting into broadcasting, but that’s not always a super viable career, so, like, that means I’ve got to do well in school and get a really good job to support my parents in case something goes wrong.”

Kris hums and closes his eyes. He should’ve known this would all lead back to Chanyeol’s family. Chanyeol loves them more than anything in the world, would  _ do  _ anything for them. Even work himself half to death, terrified of the worst case scenario that his parents have probably told him will never happen.

“Yeollie,” he presses his lips to Chanyeol’s cheeks and ignores the new teartrack. “Yeollie, baby, you can’t do this to yourself. Your parents are grown adults and have probably been saving up just in case something goes wrong.”

“That’s what everyone says,” Chanyeol huffs.

“Yeah, because that’s what responsible adults do, you goof. You are their child and it probably makes them feel like shit to know that you’re literally studying yourself sick for them. You said your mom wouldn’t let you help with the restaurant anymore, right? She just made you sit and snack and rest? Why do you think that is?” Kris sighs when Chanyeol’s mouth drops open, eyes wide like he’s just had a breakthrough of massive proportions.

Chanyeol covers his face with hands. “God,” he groans, “my fucking parents think I’m incapable of taking care of myself. This is so fucking embarassing.”

“They love you, Yeollie. If you won’t take care of yourself and you won’t let me do it, then what else can they do?”

Kris watches as Chanyeol chews on the inside of his cheek. He turns his head to look Kris in the eye with a little frown. “My mom tried to bring up therapy last time I called her. But is it really that bad? Like do you think I should try to find someone to talk to about this?”

Kris goes up on his elbows to hover over his soulmate, kissing him gently on the lips. “ _ Yes.  _ Emphatically yes. I love you more than anything. You’re my soulmate and I’ll always be here to listen to anything you want to talk about, family stuff, stuff going on inside your head, all of it. But I have no fucking idea what to say to help you and a therapist would. They’re literally paid to help you with your problems.

“And this, your panic attacks about tests and crying into your textbooks because you’re scared of some unknown future, is a  _ problem.  _ It’s hurting you, it’s hurting the people that love you because we have to watch you go through this. So, just, I dunno, just  _ try  _ therapy. If you don’t like it we’ll find something else, but try. Please.” Kris watches Chanyeol with nerves twisting in his gut, like he’s standing at the edge of a cliff, at the top of a rollercoaster.

Chanyeol starts to cry so hard he can’t speak, so Kris just holds him close and apologizes for being maybe a little too harsh, blames it on being a little drunk. Chanyeol shakes his head and tucks his face against Kris’ neck. 

Late night talks are always so emotional, something about the dark and the quiet and being tired that makes everything feel so intimate. Kris kisses Chanyeol’s temple and tries to keep himself from shedding a few tears of his own—he wishes he wasn’t drunk. He wishes he could think of something to say other than that he loves Chanyeol so much and just wants him to be happy.

“Th-that’s what matters though, right? You wouldn’t be honest with me if you didn’t love me. Making me sad right now to make me happy later?” Kris nods.

“Took the words out of my mouth,” he laughs. “But you need to see a fucking therapist, I really, really mean it. I’ll help you pay for it if you’re worried about that.”

“I’ve got insurance,” Chanyeol says, shaking his head and tilting his head up to kiss Kris on the lips. “I just didn’t want to admit there was anything wrong. I want to talk more about this just me and you before I go see a therapist. You’re just my safe space and I don’t think I want to talk about it all for the first time with someone I don’t know well. Would that be okay?”

“Of course. I’m always here for you. In the morning, though? It’s late and I just want to kiss you for a little while.” 

Chanyeol laughs then and nods, helping Kris strip off his clothes so he doesn’t wake up smelling like a bar. Kris kisses him until they’re both dizzy and giggly, and then he does it again and again just because he wants to and he can. Because he’s grossly in love and he just can’t help himself.

zzz

Kris is chilling on the couch when he hears a key turn in the front door, deadbolt flipping. He looks up, already smiling as Chanyeol shuffles in with his face buried in his phone. He spins his keyring around on his finger and Kris hums to himself, happy he thought to give his soulmate a key to his—their apartment. It’s theirs at this point with how often Chanyeol stays over. 

Kris can’t remember the last time Chanyeol slept at his own dorm for more than a midday nap. Worried about Baekhyun feeling lonely, Chanyeol tried to spend at least one night back there for a while, but Baekhyun seems perfectly content to have their room all to himself. Last week Kris had gone back with Chanyeol to get more clothes for his drawers in Kris’ dresser and laughed his ass off when he saw that Baekhyun had pushed the beds together.

“Welcome home, baby,” Kris beckons Chanyeol over with grabby hands. “How was bowling with the boys?”

Chanyeol stomps over with a pout on his lips, falling into Kris’ lap. Kris lets out a quiet  _ oomph _ as all the air is knocked out of him by Chanyeol’s bony ass. He wraps his arms around Chanyeol on instinct and smiles to himself at the little huff that Chanyeol makes as he rests his head on his shoulder. “Baekhyun threw the game! We were winning, mostly thanks to me, and then he got like three gutterballs in a row so we lost by like twenty points!”

Kris coos and kisses Chanyeol’s temple. But Chanyeol pushes him away and scowls, “I told you that I needed you on my team!”

“But it was your night out, just you and your friends without me tagging along and hogging all your attention,” Kris reminds him as he thumbs at Chanyeol’s lower lip. “Quit pouting, Yeollie, I’ll come next time and we’ll kick some ass. Besides, I’m pretty sure Baek didn’t throw the game, he just fucked up. Not everyone is as competitive as you.”

Chanyeol scoffs. “What does that mean?”

“It means you’re the love of my life, but you throw fits when you lose at literally any game. Not if you lose to me, that’s true,” Kris taps him on the nose to keep him from interrupting, like distracting a small puppy from biting at shoelaces or something equally adorable, “But with anyone else you get pouty and huffy—just like this.”

Chanyeol is horribly competitive. That is an objective fact that literally anyone who knows him can attest to, and Kris loves it about him. He gets so excited to play any sort of game, jumping on the couch during Mario Party, constantly asking Kris to play checkers or chess or the fucking  _ Harry Potter Scene It  _ he brought back with him the last time he went home. It’s ridiculously annoying; Kris can’t help but think it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen, that sparkle in Chanyeol’s eye when someone mentions a game. 

At least with Kris he doesn’t throw a fit when he loses. 

And maybe that’s because Kris lets him win nine times out of ten, but that’s irrelevant. 

“Is it, like, annoying,” Chanyeol asks, the anger going out of him with a sigh.

Kris kisses Chanyeol and rearranges them on the couch so that they can lie down more comfortably. “No, no, baby, not even a little bit. Just, you know, remember that games are games and they're meant to be fun—win, lose, or draw.” 

Chanyeol rolls until he’s tucked under Kris’ arm. He drums his fingers on Kris’ stomach with a little frown on his face, brow furrowed in thought. He shrugs when Kris asks if he’s alright and doesn’t crack a smile even when Kris pinches at his cheeks.

“Do you want me to see if Tao and Luhan are up for a game of Wii bowling? Watching Luhan get ten gutterballs in a row will make you feel better.” Chanyeol nods before getting up and heading back into the bedroom to change into comfier clothes.

**From: Me**

_ Hey u guys wanna come up and play some bowling? Yeollie lost tonight and he’s feelin sad _

**From: Taozi**

_ Sorry, we’re havin date night :(  _

_ Next time tho! _

“They’re having date night tonight, baby.” Kris looks up from his phone at the sound of footsteps to see Chanyeol shuffling into the living room. He’s got Kris’ old high school sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants. “What,” he asks when he sees Kris staring.

“That’s mine, isn’t it?”

Chanyeol shrugs. “You’re mine, so your stuff is too.” They share a smile as Chanyeol’s cheeks turn pink, “You know, cause you’re my other half and all.”

“I love you,” Kris smiles so hard eyes scrunch up and his cheeks hurt. “Dumb and dumber can’t come, but I’ll still play with you.”

“You’re so mean, Kris, they’re your best friends. It’s fine, though, maybe we can just practice Korean or Chinese for the rest of the night? My mom really wants to meet you soon. And I love you too,” Chanyeol giggles and lets himself be tugged back onto the couch. 

“Sounds good to me. Where did we leave off with Korean?” Kris grabs the journals they’ve been using to trade languages off the coffee table. He flips through his journal and hums, “Looks like we were going over good compliments for in-laws.”

Trading languages started off as just something to keep them entertained one night when a storm knocked the power out. Kris had offered to help Chanyeol learn how to write and pronounce the hanja for his name. Chanyeol taught him how to introduce himself in Korean. He’d made a joke off-handedly about Kris sucking up to his parents by learning Korean to speak to them and it just spiraled from there. 

Now, with finals season looming on the horizon, they haven’t had the time to teach each other, preferring to take any and all free time to decompress. 

Kris can’t remember the last time they got to sit down and make flashcards and practice pronunciation. They take turns teaching vocab and exchanging phrases. Chanyeol gets tripped up on the tones, Kris’ head swims with grammar and particles. But he knows how to tell his soulmate he’s the prettiest boy in the world in three different languages and that’s really what matters.

“Are you still thinking about taking Chinese next semester,” Kris asks after Chanyeol groans and flings himself backwards onto the couch cushions. He always gets so frustrated with pronunciation no matter how much Kris assures him that he’s actually doing very, very well. 

Chanyeol nods. “Dr. Matthews says that I need to take a few classes that are just for fun or ones where I have someone who knows the subject really well and can be a good judge of whether I’m studying enough or not. He says my judgement with studying is kind of fucked, so I need outside help for now.”

It had taken a few weeks after their talk that night for Chanyeol to finally make an appointment with a therapist. Kris was happy to listen to him, will always be happy to be Chanyeol’s confidante, but holy fuck it was so great when Chanyeol came back from his appointment with Dr. Matthews and decided that he was going to be his therapist from then on. Kris likes Chanyeol’s therapist. He seems level-headed and very kind, careful to not push Chanyeol too far and sending him home with homework to do between their weekly sessions.

“You should join my basketball class,” Kris tickles the bottom of his foot and grins when Chanyeol giggles and kicks at him. “I could use a cheerleader.”

“You’re fuckin’ ridiculous. If I’m wearing a skirt for you, it’s in the bedroom and the bedroom  _ only _ .” Chanyeol bats his eyelashes and stretches out the best he can on the couch before blowing a kiss. He laughs, obviously joking, but Kris sure isn’t taking it as a joke.

Chanyeol in a skirt. If that isn’t one hell of an idea, and a mental image.

Kris swallows, blinking rapidly as his brain attempts to process. It fails, multiple times, stuck on the image of all that leg in a mini-skirt. Kris decides that the only way to cope is to toss their journals off the couch and pounce on his soulmate. “You’d wear a skirt for me, baby?”

“I-I mean, do you want me to? I didn’t think you’d actually be into that.” Chanyeol stares up at him with wide eyes, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. “You think that I’d look pretty in a skirt?”

“Pretty? I think you’d look sexy as hell.” Kris leans down and kisses under his jaw, trailing down his neck and slipping a hand under the borrowed sweatshirt.

“Bedroom,” Chanyeol squeaks, “Bedroom! Bedroom!”

Kris nods. “Bedroom.” And then he yanks Chanyeol off the couch and down the hall to their room, the two of them giggling the whole way.

zzz

Kris nods along to the music playing in his headphones, gaze wandering over the lobby. It’s a pretty nice waiting area, lots of comfy chairs and magazines and a little table with toys for the kids waiting to see Dr. Hernandez. The few times he’s sat in here and waited for Chanyeol to finish his session with Dr. Matthews, it was pretty empty, mostly just Dr. Hernandez’s patients and then the girl who always has an appointment after Chanyeol. But it’s fucking packed today, nearly every seat full with college students terrified about finals and needing to vent.

That’s why Chanyeol is here too, scheduled an extra session for this week because he was getting a little anxious and frantic with his chemistry final coming up. Kris is, as always, his own personal flashcard machine, sitting up with him for hours to go over different chemical structures and the distinct characteristics of acids versus bases. 

Kris doesn’t remember jack shit about chemistry, but he’s got the power of Google and a can-do attitude on his side. And he’ll do just about anything for his soulmate.

Chanyeol had told him he didn’t need to come with him for the session today; he doesn’t usually, just stays home and makes dinner so that if Chanyeol comes back from therapy a little drained he doesn’t have to do anything but eat and cuddle. Kris just felt like coming today. Finals aren’t as harrowing for him as they are for Chanyeol, but he’s knee-deep in the final project for his business class with Sehun and just felt like he could use a break from working on it.

There’s a Mexican restaurant not too far from Dr. Matthew’s office that he and Chanyeol have been wanting to try as well. It’s been a while since they’ve had a date night.

“Ready to go?” Kris blinks, startled out of his thoughts. He looks up and smiles when he sees Chanyeol, looking tired but way less nervous than he was before he went in for his session. 

Kris stands and takes Chanyeol’s hand in his as they walk out of the office. The winter wind hits them like a brick wall, snow piling up along the sidewalk. “Good session? Looks like you’re feeling better.”

“Uh-huh,” Chanyeol nods, “I’m under strict orders to keep my sleep schedule and to let you hide all my notes after eight so that I don’t try to cram. He also said I can call if I start freaking out and I can’t talk to you because you’re, like, at your own final or something. He also gave me some websites to look at in regards to my actual class material. Even if I don’t look at them I feel better knowing I have more things to use when I get frustrated.”

“Are you sure it’s unethical for me to, like, give him a fruit basket or whatever white people give each other to say thanks.” Kris grins when Chanyeol smacks him on the arm, pulling the hem of his beanie down over his eyes.

“Dr. Matthews is allergic to most berries, Kristopher. He said he’d probably puff up like a balloon if you sent him one of those edible arrangement things.” 

Kris groans and wraps his arms around Chanyeol’s waist, going up on his toes to put his chin on his soulmate’s head. “Not you too! I just got Zitao to stop calling me that! Why can’t you ever call me a pet name or something cute?

“Like what? Fanfan? Krissy? Your name isn’t conducive to good nicknames, you know,” Chanyeol laughs and squirms as he tries to wriggle his way out of Kris’ hold. It’s all in vain, Kris is built like an octopus, not even Chanyeol, who is also built long and lanky, can break free. Especially when they both know he doesn’t really want to.

Kris hums. He pulls them to a stop in front of the Mexican restaurant and nudges their shoulders together in question. “Absolutely fucking not to ‘Krissy’. But I’ll give ‘Fanfan’ a maybe, if you do it cute enough.”

Chanyeol nods and leads him into the restaurant to snag a booth not far from the door, ogling at the Christmas lights and the mistletoe hanging above the door that Kris carefully avoids. Chanyeol has no sense of decency when it comes to mistletoe and he’d like to eat dinner before they get kicked out of the restaurant for PDA. “Cute enough? Excuse you, I am absolutely fucking adorable. You’ve said so yourself many times.”

“And I stand by my statement, but that doesn’t mean every single thing you do is cute. That’d be a little creepy.” 

“Fair enough. Oh, I got a text from Baek during my session. Looks like him, Minseok, Junmyeon, and Luhan and Tao are going out the last day of finals week to celebrate the end of the semester with a few of your basketball buddies. Are we going?” 

Kris mentally counts the days until the end of finals week before shaking his head with a frown. “I can’t go,” he sighs, “that’s when me and Sehun have to present our project. You should go though, baby. Have some fun and relax. You deserve it.”

“Nah,” Chanyeol shakes his head, nose scrunched up. “I’d rather wait for you and go out next weekend once we’re all rested and stuff. It’s not like I can drink with them anyway.”

“You sure? It won’t hurt my feelings if you go.”

“I’m sure.” Chanyeol opens up his menu and sets it flat out on the table in front of them, getting up on his knees in the booth like he’s a child and not a six-foot tall grown man. “Now, let’s each get something we both wanna try so we can share. Oh, and queso dip! Yes, I know it hurts my stomach, shut up,  _ Fanfan _ . I’m a grown man who can do what he wants.”

“I’ll remind you of that when you’re whining about your tummy later tonight,” Kris darts in to kiss the pout off Chanyeol’s face before the waiter comes to take their order.

zzz

The final project for Kris’ business class became a much bigger problem than he originally anticipated. He and Sehun had read through the instructions and the grading rubric before starting their project, worked on it little by little over the course of three weeks, and only as they were getting ready to submit it the day before they were to present it did they notice the document with all the guidelines and instructions was three pages instead of two.

Kris has rushed many projects in his life, but never quite like this. He and Sehun took over the entire living room for nearly twenty-four hours, hopped up on adrenaline and caffeine.

Chanyeol was—still is—Kris’ knight in shining armor. His last final was on Thursday morning and he proudly proclaimed that it was payback for all the shit he put Kris through before they met. He went on coffee runs, force fed both Kris and Sehun homemade meals, and took power naps to stave off their shared exhaustion in turn. 

Kris doesn’t know what he would’ve done without him. Died, probably, just laid down on the floor and died so that he didn’t have to think about citing sources and PowerPoint presentations anymore.

Kris stumbles through the front door after presenting his project and Chanyeol's sitting on the couch playing a game on his phone, takeout from Kris’ favorite place on the coffee table. “I’m dead,” he groans as he lets his feet carry him across the room and flops down face first onto the couch.

“How was your presentation? Did you get your grade back yet?” Chanyeol cares not for Kris’ suffering and throws himself down on top of him, giggling when Kris wheezes. “I bet you did great!”

“Got an  _ A-.  _ Please, get off me, I can’t breathe.” But Chanyeol just shakes his head and gets comfortable where he’s crushing Kris into the couch. “Baby, I can’t cuddle you if I’m dead.”

Chanyeol scoffs. He refuses to move. Kris resigns himself to being squished and lets Chanyeol’s presence sap away his stress. It really isn’t that bad now that he’s used to it, just like having a warm blanket. Chanyeol is kind enough to let him roll onto his back and looks very pleased with himself as Kris is forced to eat his words and cuddle him anyway.

“No school for a month,” Chanyeol beams up at him, chin on his chest. “How do you wanna celebrate? Everyone else is trashed, like Baekhyun sent me a completely incomprehensible text about love and soulmates and fat asses so there’s no way we can go meet up with them.”

“That’s okay. We knew we probably weren’t gonna make it to their club crawl anyway.” Kris makes grabby hands at the food on the coffee table. He grins when Chanyeol huffs but reaches over and grabs him a container of noodles. 

“Delivery tax,” Chanyeol says and opens his mouth for Kris to feed him. “‘S so good. How do you know all the good food places around here?”

“Was too lazy to cook until I met you. I subsisted off of takeout for a long time and then all the sudden I wanted to impress you and make sure you were putting more than energy drinks and garbage into your body.” Kris snickers when Chanyeol’s smile falls into a scowl.

Kris feeds him another bite of noodles and that seems to soothe him. “Really, though,” Chanyeol asks, “What do you wanna do? We can play games, we can fuck, we could try to fuck  _ and  _ play games. Or a sex game! But I don’t know any of those.”

“Honestly? I just wanna sleep. I’m so fucking tired,” Kris laughs.

Chanyeol sighs in relief. “Thank fuck. I tried to sleep enough for both of us but that shit’s  _ hard _ . Dinner and then pass out until our bodies force us to wake up?”

“You read my mind. It’s like you’re made for me.”

Chanyeol rolls his eyes and Kris doesn’t think he could love him any more, “That’s because I  _ am _ , goofball.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! If you liked this, please leave a kudos and a comment! You can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/killmeDO) and [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.me/killmeDO) Sometimes I talk about what I'm working on next and post snippets! I'd love to hear from you <3


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